JEFF THE KILLER X READER
by dearestxina
Summary: Warning: This is a story for only 18 and older, containing underlying rape scenes, torture, angst, and blood. Jeff is a deranged serial killer who is NOT affectionate towards his victims. However, if you are ready for a thrilling first person horror adventure, please do continue! R&R's are always appreciated.
1. Part 1

**A/N: This is in first person and includes very mature themes of underlying rape with blood and torture. This story is only for readers of ages 18+. If you are expecting a fluffy loving Jeff who will pull you into his arms and embrace you, this is NOT the story for you. Jeff is a serial killer, a deranged psycho path in my story. If you are okay with all these circumstances, please do continue and enjoy! R&R's are always appreciated! **

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**Jeff the Killer x Reader: Part 1**

_Fuck_

The cold air stings your nose as you quietly lift yourself off from the covers, shifting your weight to the edge of your bed. It was the middle of December, just before Christmas and you are home alone. Your parents were both busy, nonetheless unable to stay home most nights. It was hard when you were younger but now, you had gotten used to it. You were used to staying home alone ever since middle school and honestly, it had grown to a point of familiarity. It would be much rather strange to see them home on a daily basis.

You crack your neck and loll your head back and forth, trying to massage your stiff shoulders with your right hand. You cringe at the null pain stinging across your back as you turn your gaze toward your bed stand.

3:20 A.M.

It was strange how you continued to wake up in the middle of the night for these past few days, and you have no idea as to why. It exhausts you and yet nothing seemed to work; not even those sleeping pills.

You heave out a heavy sigh as your bare feet meet with the cold wooden floor. You quietly shudder at the sudden icy contact, hugging yourself while clenching the arm of your oversized sweater you had worn to bed.

You quickly make your way downstairs to the kitchen, not bothering to turn on any of the lights.

_What should I make myself, some tea? No, I don't think we have any tea. I hope we have some hot chocolate. Or maybe some cereal? Dammit, I'm hungry now. I can't eat though, it's too late. Wait, didn't mom leave some of her-_

And just as you were about to joyfully rummage through your cabinet/refrigerator, you come to a skidding halt, slowly retracing your steps backwards.

You slightly tilt your body back and turn your head towards the end of the hallway. Your heart drops as you notice that your back door is wide open. For a second, you just stand there, questioning if your parents were already home from their week long business trip. But you knew it weren't possible. No it was not. Definitely not at this hour of the night.

Soon, a numbing sensation of alarm blooms within the deepest part of your gut as you stand motionless within the dark. You could hear the rhythmic pounding of your own heart hammering against your chest as you take shallow breaths, quickly yet carefully scanning the vicinity of your dark house.

_No way. No way. There is nothing to fear (Y/N), you're just being paranoid. It's probably some kind of lock malfunction that my dad needs to fix as soon as he comes back home. There is nothing to fear. Look! You just scanned every nook and cranny of your house and you have seen nothing strange. There is nothing to fear, it's just the wind. Stupid door. Stupid house. _

You quietly sigh as you regain your composure, nervously running your hand through your (H/C) locks before walking towards the opened back door. Without bothering to look outside, you quickly close it with a quiet thud, double checking the lock to make sure it had shut tight.

Satisfied that it had been nothing, you smile with relief before striding back towards the kitchen for your midnight snack.

You skip down the hallway in a light mannered fashion and pull open your cabinet/refrigerator door, crouching down with glee as you prepare yourself (your snack). And just as you are about to reach over for (whatever you want), you jump at the sound of a heavy thud from the ceiling.

You halt all movement and jerk your gaze upwards, eyes streaking back and forth. You swallow your breath and hold your stance, panic flooding your thoughts.

_What the fuck was that?_


	2. Part 2

**Jeff the Killer x Reader: Part 2**

You hiss as the floorboard gently creeks under your weight, resounding loudly within the dead silence. Alarmed and afraid that you may have given your presence away, you halt, waiting for any kind of sign that you were not alone.

_What the hell! A robber? Was it a robber that had broken in? Possibly. Or maybe I'm just over reacting? Jesus (Y/N), calm down. Okay, let me think. I should first pick up some kind of weapon just to be sure._

You quickly look around your surroundings, squinting through the dark. You had thought about turning on the lights but you felt like it'd be a bad idea. Considering the possibility that you were not alone and the intruder did not know you were home, you'd basically be giving yourself away. Instead, you finally grab for a (weapon of choice), being the closest within your reach. Feeling at least a little bit braver, you regain your tip toe stance and continue down the hall, gripping the (weapon) tightly tow your chest.

It was quiet. You heard not a single other sound. You had peeked into every possible corner and room and you had found nothing. The loud thump you had heard earlier nearly seems like a moment of confusion; imagined by your own state of alarm. You start to convince yourself that you had misheard it, dropping your guard and placing the (weapon) away on top of a nearby (furniture). Sighing and feeling at ease, you decide to go back to your room.

You had considered going back to the kitchen, but at this point, you are no longer hungry and rather tired. Exhausted from the stiff walking and spike of adrenaline, you quietly yawn as you make your way back to your room. Gently closing the door behind you, you lazily drag your feet over to your bed, pulling the covers back before finally jumping in. Relieved that it had indeed been nothing, you make yourself comfortable, sighing at the soothing contact of cold sheets. Laying your head down and pulling your covers up, you close your eyes finally feeling at peace. Sleep soon begins to slowly cradle your mind, the warmth of your own body luring you to slumber. Your breathing slows, evenly calm as your eyes slowly close; your mind drifting off.

Tomorrow, you'd wake up just fine, just like any other-

"Well, hello there."

A raspy voice, just above a whisper.

Your heart stops. Your breath hitches. Your eyes fly open as you freeze, clutching onto the sheets under your grip. A cold shiver slices down your spine, the horror drowning you in its arms.

Your mind spirals out of control, cluttered thoughts sparking turmoil within your soul. And just as if on cue, you feel the cold edge of a dull blade press against the nape of your neck, dragging itself towards your drumming pulse. Your conscious screams, a dry cry caught in your throat. You begin to tremble violently. You feel the springs of your bed creak as the intruder climbs on top of you, holding the blade in its place against your neck; keeping you immobile. Too afraid to even move, or even breath, you grip the sheets as your tears begin to burn, blurring your sight.

"Shhh, don't even try to scream or I'll slit your pretty little throat right here."

He spoke with a low and raspy tone, dripping with menacing mock. Still laying on your side, you slowly nod, the tears spilling and soaking the side of your face.

"Good girl." A shrilling chuckle drenched in glee reverberates through his chest.

"Now," sitting on top of your trembling form, his cold bony fingers grip your shoulder, forcefully turning your body to face his. You quietly comply, clamping your eyes shut and allowing your back to meet with the bed.

"Let's have some fun, shall we?"


	3. Part 3

**Jeff the Killer x Reader: Part 3**

"….(stutter your name)" You reply, voice cracking.

"Oh, I've had a few other (Y/N)'s." He hums, tracing the dull blade casually across your neck. Shuddering at the icy contact, you dig the side of your face further into your pillow as you expose the vulnerable side of your pulsing neck. "All of them were really all the same ol' boring thing." He nearly spits his words with a low chuckle, eyeing the blood beading red, staining at your fresh cuts. You shudder at the prickling pain.

"All screaming and pleading for their lives. Pathetic really."

And before you are given the chance to retort, his callously cold hand roughly grabs your face, forcing you to face his. Shocked, you jerk your hand up and tightly grasp onto the sleeve of his tattered white hoodie. However unfazed, he simply tightens the grip on your chin as you finally face him with dread. Horror scars your mind as you reluctantly come to focus on his features. Skin as pale and white as the snow with hair as black as a crow's, his eyes shined a pale white grey, shadowed darkly with shade. His features were sharp, his messy shoulder length mane finely refining his display. But despite it all, the only alarming sight, drowning you with unspeakable terror was his smile. His smile, freshly carved into his face with a jagged blade, scarred from the ends of his mouth to his ears; forever engraved.

Your eyes as wide as saucers, you urge to look away yet freeze with fear. A low chuckle erupts from the killer as he drags the knife across your collarbone; relishing in your every expression.

"That's it! That's exactly the kind of look that just always gets me so fucking excited!" Nearly shrieking with joy, he lowers his face inches from yours as you clench your eyes shut, silent sobs escaping your throat.

"So, (Y/N) what do you say? Do you want to go to sleep?" Cocking his head to the side, he breaths his words just above your lips, nearly tasting yours in. You tremble as he drags his finger across your freshly opened wound, tracing the blood down to the top of your chest. Your heart thundering, your ears are ringing.

You knew what he was implying. He was going to kill you right then and there.

Digging your nails into the palm of your hand, you slowly shake your head, knitting your eyebrows, biting your lip. You desperately try to control your ragged breathing, your mind racing with frantic incoherent thoughts on how to escape.

"Hmm, well actually," your (E/C) eyes shake with frenzied hysteria as the knife leaves your throat, hoisted up into the air. The edge of the knife glimmers, meeting with the moonlight. "I think you need to," and in a blink of an eye, he lunges his arm back and shrieks with sadistic delight, "GO TO SLEEP!"

And as if all irrational fear had clicked off within that split second, you heave all of your strength into pushing him off as you fall off of your bed, stumbling to your feet. Without even bothering to look back, a surge of energy brings clarity to your mind as you jerk yourself up, heading for your door. Just as you regain your balance, you skid forward, reaching for the golden handle when a sharp pain burns through the back of your foot. Screaming in agony, you fall face first onto the floor, bruising the side of your chin.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

A screeching laughter resounding within your room, you desperately claw at the floor, crawling your way towards your door. He had slit the back of your heel, making it impossible for you to run. Whimpering in sharp gasps, you frantically reach out, just inches away from the door knob. Suddenly, the dull end of the knife's handle impales your hand with violent force as you yelp and cringe in pain. You jerk your hand away and cradle it into your chest. Whirling around, your back meets with the door as you come face to face with the beaming killer.

His smile stretches, dripping with menacing glee as he corners you into the wall. "How exciting. A cute little thing like you that has some fighting spirit." He snarls as he pulls his hood down, twirling the knife around in in between his bony fingers.

You glance up, panic shrouding your vision. You stick to the wall, inching as closely as you physically could to the edge. You jerk your head away as he comes closer and crouches down in front of you. Smirking, he cocks his head, speaking just above a raspy whisper.

"I've changed my mind. Okay kid, here's the fucking deal."

He pauses, waiting for your reaction. Noting the silence on his part, you cautiously turn your gaze to meet his.

Chuckling, he continues. "Here's what. I kinda like you. So, I think I'm gonna let you slide."

A sudden glimmer of hope sparks to life within your heart as you slightly drop your guard. Wiping away the tears from your face with your sleeve, you gather up the little courage you could as you give him your full undivided attention. Taking note of your sudden interest, he shoots a cocky grin and continues in a mocking tone; casually twirling the knife around in his hand.

"Let's play a little game then, yeah?"

_Game? What?_

Confusion rips through your features as you timidly gape at his comment.

"W-what do you mean…a game?" You gulp, swallowing the dry lump in your throat.

"Well, glad you asked. I find you mildly interesting and I haven't had this much fun in a while. So, if you can entertain me just one more time, I'm gonna let you go." Resting his forearm on his knee, he flicks the knife in between his fore fingers, swinging it back and forth. Your eyes flicker to the rocking knife and back to his face.

Voice cracking, you whisper behind chapped lips. "…What do you mean entertain you?"

He smiles, lifting his head, pausing for a moment before giving you a vague answer.

"Well, that's completely up to you."

Your muscles tense as your breathing comes in uneven pants. Cold sweat beads on your forehead as grit your teeth and clench your sweaty palms. What did he mean? You didn't understand what he was implying. You weren't thinking clearly either as the sheering pain pulsed from the back of your heel to the tip of your fingers. It muddled your thoughts and scrambled your reasoning. Only the silence continued to hang in the air as you watched him warily, waiting for his next predatory move.

Then, to your shock, he places the knife he had in his grip directly in front of you, sliding it to and within your reach. You jerk your gaze to and back from the knife to the beaming killer. He gives you a brief nod as you stare in cosmic shock.

What were you going to do?

1. Pick up the knife and lunge at him with all of your strength despite your injury? (Go to Part A)

2. Tell him you didn't trust him and that you weren't going to be a part of his 'sick games?' (Go to Part B)

3. Or, pick up the knife and threaten him to stay away as you make your way out of the room? (Go to Part C)

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**A/N: Alright, so depending on the reviews on which choice gets picked the most, I will upload that part of the story first. And then the second one. And then the third one. Choose wisely guys. :) **


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